


Very Important Friends

by your_bro_joe



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humor, M/M, Marriage, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-02-05 17:50:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1826926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_bro_joe/pseuds/your_bro_joe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of ficlets about Tavish, Jane, and their deep love for one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"So this," Jane says, lifting the centerpiece from one of the tables in the vast hotel suite, "can be your bouquet!"

"An’ who says  _I’m_  the wee lassie? I think that role’d be better suited ta  _you_ ,” Tavish teases back, and Jane squints at him from under his ever-present helmet. In his state of inebriation, a brilliant idea comes to him, and he rips the display in half, handing the other man a piece of florist’s foam with tulips and lilies protruding from it, while he holds the other half.

"There. Now you can’t complain about it." 

Tavish laughs uproariously, but Jane puts his mirth aside quickly, holding his “bouquet” with one hand, and looping his other through the taller man’s arm.

"So we walk down the aisle, right?" he says, leading them toward the plate glass window overlooking the Vegas Strip; a thousand glittering lights smiling up on them; on this moment, "and the priest, he’d say, ‘we are gathered here under the eyes of God and Uncle Sam to unite these two in American matrimony—’"

"I don’t think that’s how it goes, Janey—"

"Don’t interrupt a priest, you skirt-twirling heathen! Now, as I—I mean, the priest—was saying: ‘to unite these two in American matrimony, for richer or for poorer, in health and gibs, through rockets and sticky bombs—’"

"Get on wi’it, ye daft coot!"

"Hmph!" Jane pouts, but his grip on Tavish’s arm grows tighter. "Well, I think next would be, ‘Do you, Jane Doe, take this man,’ and I’d say ‘hell yes I do! And I’d give you a ring, but uh," he looks around, lost, for a moment, then plucks a blue lily from his bunch. He surveys it critically for a moment, then tucks it behind Tavish’s left ear, securing the stem under the string of his eyepatch. "There," he says, cheeks coloring from something besides the alcohol, "and then he’d ask you, ‘Do you, Tavish Finnegan DeGroot, take this man?’"

The words hang in the air for a moment as Tavish picks a bright red tulip from his remnant of the centerpiece and tucks it under the brim of Jane’s helmet. His fingers linger on one strong cheekbone before he finally says “I do.”

Jane watches him for a moment, stunned, utterly stunned that he found someone as perfect for him as Tavish; someone so handsome and funny and smart and entirely too good for him, but here they stand, drunk and happy, pledging themselves to each other and no one else. Jane licks his lips, and swallows.

"I think this is the part where the priest says ‘You may kiss’," Tavish prods after the long pause, and Jane is on him so fast that his helmet is knocked askew and then pushed off entirely as he kisses his lover in a way that can only be described as "fiercely".

When they pull apart, they are both flushed, and panting, and smiling.

"I love you, Tav," Jane says, voice a gruff whisper meant for only the other to hear.

"I love you too, Janey," Tavish replies; twinkle in his eye and silly grin on his lips as he pulls their lips together again.


	2. Chapter 2

Tavish leans in close to Jane’s ear, breathing hotly into it as he whispers “c’mon, lad, tickle me pickle.”

Jane huffs, shrugging the Scotsman off. “I told you, Tav,” he says, looking at him from under the brim of his helmet, “not when you’re drunk.”

Tavish’s lips jut out in a pout, hands hovering over the shorter man’s arm but not touching him. “Aye’m not that drunk,” he insists, but Jane puts that argument to rest by shoving him gently, which sends the other man reeling. “That’s not fair,” he retorts when he’s regained his balance, but Jane only frowns.

"Sober up, Private," he says, straightening, looking down on the slumping man, "and then I’ll consider a meeting with the Rear Admiral."

Tavish’s face lights up immediately.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s an accident; that’s the best word that he can come up with that makes this feel okay; makes this feel like something he can live with, makes him able to really enjoy the fact that, at the moment, his best friend’s hand is wrapped around his throbbing cock while the other man grinds his own erection into his thigh.

"God… damn," Jane whispers through gritted teeth, hands firmly tangled in the sheets and not Tavish’s shirt. Tavish responds by pressing his nose hard into Jane’s neck, breathing deep the scent of him while carefully keeping his lips away.

He supports himself with one hand beside Jane’s head, moving insistently against him as he uses the other to get the man off. He doesn’t mind that Jane isn’t returning the favor, content to buck against thigh, feeling with his own leg the heat pouring from the other man’s crotch. He bites his lower lip, swallowing the needy sound that wants to escape against Jane’s neck.

It was an accident; a bit of roughhousing that tumbled them into Tavish’s bed together, then pushed them against each other in such a way that Jane could no longer hide his hardening cock; that Tavish could no longer hide his either. And so, accidentally, Tavish’s hand moved from Jane’s thigh to his waist, accidentally undoing the button there, and more intentionally pulling the zipper down and slipping his fingers through the fly of Jane’s briefs.

The shorter man grunted, head back against the pillow as he tried desperately not to look at the man above him; not to want more than a quick handjob and an awkward handshake after. He keeps his hands away because he knows if he touches Tavish at all, it will betray everything he’s tried so hard to hide from his friend. He knows he’ll hold him too close and too tight, and the other man will leap away, denying him this and all fleeting contact in the future. Everything about their relationship is forbidden in the eyes of others; he won’t destroy their careful bond with selfishness. He takes another deep breath and squeezes his eyes tighter shut, to keep any view of temptation away. He feels Tavish’s forehead against his throat, and his breath on his chest.

Then he feels the other man’s lips on his collarbone.

"Jane."

Suddenly Tavish is pulling away, and Jane can’t stop himself from reaching out to stop him, large hand firm on his back, and when he opens his eyes he sees a look on his friend’s face that’s both familiar and not, and in this new context he recognizes as the one he’s fixed so often on the other man: longing.

Swallowing all his fear, Jane lifts his other hand and uses both to pull Tavish down and into him, fingers tightening in the back of his jumpsuit when their lips finally connect and it’s everything they’ve ever wanted, soft and hard and yielding when their tongues caress each other and they taste each other for the first time. Tavish never let him go and his fingers squeeze his shaft and Jane comes, groaning open-mouthed into Tavish and grabbing his hips, his ass, grinding his thigh against his friend’s crotch until Tavish comes too.

They lie stationary for a moment, slowing breaths and mouthing at each other, trying to taste the relief in their skin. Tavish finally collapses against Jane’s chest, laughing in a way much gentler than his usual raucous chuckle. He noses Jane’s jaw and kisses his cheek. Jane turns his head and kisses him back. They lie like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, words unnecessary as they glide seamlessly further into a relationship that feels so much like fate.


	4. Chapter 4

Slow music plays from an old phonograph, its notes curling around the couple dancing cheek to cheek in the center of the room. They hold each other in a loose waltz, swaying to the tune and smiling. Earlier, they were laughing, but that mirth has faded into gentle affection and contented silence.

Jane leans into Tavish’s chest, inhaling his aftershave and rubbing his nose into the skin below the taller man’s ear. Tavish rests his hand on the small of Jane’s back, smoothing circles against his white undershirt. He kisses his neck and shoulder, eyes closed to the world around them. All he needs is the man in his arms and the warmth that spreads through his whole body when he’s there.

They spend their furloughs in a different place every time; hotels and houses, apartments and airstreams. It doesn’t matter. Anywhere they’re together is home.


End file.
